


Sometimes It Takes A Miracle

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Genre: Christmas, metaphysical elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27710489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Winter, much like war, could be cold, hard, and merciless.  Sometimes you needed a miracle just to survive.
Kudos: 5





	Sometimes It Takes A Miracle

They'd been joking on the plane out about that debriefing Major Kenner had laid out for them. Usually it was just Garrison getting the official version of whatever job they were being sent on, him then thinking it through and then translating it into something that was a little more logical and made a little better sense for the guys. 

It was rare that they'd had the opportunity to experience one of the graduates of 'Wishful Thinking 101' laying it out so smoothly and with such a confident smile. Frankly, it was enough to make anyone wonder why a team was being sent out in the first place when, from the sound of it, any third-grader could have managed it during morning recess and made it back in time to win the spelling bee in the afternoon.

From the patient look on Garrison's face during that briefing, the guys could see this was nothing new, more of the same ole, same ole, but they'd also seen that little signal, the 'wait, just go along, I'll explain later' one they used so often in the field it was second-nature now. 

Accordingly, they didn't put as much credence in that cheerful briefing as they might have otherwise; they sure didn't make any bets on that "in and out the same day, more than likely. Why, you'll probably be back in time for Christmas dinner at the Officers' Club, Lieutenant Garrison!" (Well, Garrison wasn't placing any bets on that either.)

That the guys were overlooked in that pleasant prediction, that didn't really bother them (not nearly as much as it bothered Garrison). They figured it was just more of the usual and didn't let it annoy them (not too much anyway), not anymore. It wasn't like THEY were going to be welcome at the OC, not even the Enlisted Men's Club, not without a fight breaking out. They already knew the first without any discussion; the second they'd learned on two unfortunate prior occasions. Damages had been withheld from their paypackets for quite some time, and that was even with Garrison dropping in a contribution. Well, he hadn't thought it was all his guys' fault anyway!

Still, the promise of an easy mission - a fast out-and-back - that sounded damned good, since they'd just walked back into HQ from that LAST job when they'd been tapped for this impromptu turn. Not that any of them would have laid odds on it happening, that 'easy mission'; it so rarely did.

{"Though, would be nice, 'aving it all be that easy this time around. Doubt it will be, though. Even if it WAS, in the beginning, expect the Lieutenant will find SOMETHING that catches 'is eye, something else 'e wants to turn 'is 'and to doing, "since we're already 'ere!" like 'e says,"} Goniff thought with a weary amusement. Well, that was Garrison, after all, always on the lookout for that little something extra to make their trip worthwhile! While that was something they'd have perhaps preferred he outgrow, still, the man did have a way of pulling rabbits out of his hat, finding a way to pull off things no one else would have even considered possible. And he'd gotten them back alive, each and every time. For that, they'd cut him some slack.

The men had been dismissed to grab a quick coffee, maybe some food, while Garrison rushed off to gather what he could that he knew had NOT been included in that briefing. 

Some of that data being offered so confidently was way out of date, he knew, even from first glance. That meant a stop at a telephone to get Sergeant Major Rawlins to refresh Garrison's memory from one of the maps in the files back at the Mansion.

He and his fellow Team Leaders had a system going now - any new info obtained on a job (or otherwise) was put down in writing and shared amongst those in the group who saw the advantage of doing so. Sometimes that made the difference between success and failure; sometimes it made the difference between coming back alive or not. It was telling that one or two of the Team Leaders who thought all of that was beneath them were now on the Casualty List.

Now, while listening to Rawlins describe the annotated map, the notes on the back, trying to drive all of that into his mind, his memory; trying to give the team every advantage possible, Garrison fervently wished there was a way to transmit things like that easily. 

{"Maybe on a small device I could carry in my pocket! Maps, notes,"} he mused to himself. Then he gave a reluctant laugh, "might as well ask for a telephone I can carry in my pocket, one that would let me call from anywhere I happened to be, get the right person on the other end just when I needed them. Right, dream on, Garrison!" 

He ignored the odd glances he got from the others passing him in the hall who'd heard that soliloquy, focused now on finding his team, maybe grabbing a fast cup of coffee before heading them out for this 'easy job'.

He'd found them in the midst of their cups of not-quite-coffee, talking of inconsequential matters, certainly not about the upcoming job. Getting his own cup, he joined them at the table. 

"Later, once we're on our way out," he'd murmured, getting a nod of understanding from each man. Well, this wasn't the place, as they all knew.

Chief had commented sarcastically as the four men walked into the commissary, "remember, just like the Major said, guys. We don't stand up in front of this crew and give them the full low-down. We don't say nothing to no one about where we're going, what we're gonna be doing. Don't go drawing any maps on the wall, neither, or writing out names." 

While he was used to people acting like he was dumb, and now, that he and the others were outright stupid, it did get old.

That got him a wry look from the others, with Casino snorting in bitter amusement. 

"Yeah, like we KNOW any of that anyhow from the briefing we got. Hope to hell the lieutenant understood all that gobbledegook we was hearing. It's like the guy didn't really WANT us to know what the job was, ya know?"

Actor could only nod in agreement. He was the one who occasionally took one of those briefings when Garrison was out of commission, and while 'Wishful Thinking 101', as Garrison had been known to describe the process at times, suited well enough, HE thought of it more like one of the games often played at country fairs. He smiled now at the image that brought to mind - a half-barrel filled with swirling hot molasses, specks of things moving with the rapid current, here and there a shiny mass catching your eye. 

{"With your task being to reach in and pull out what is valuable, all without getting burned. So, here we are, each of us, listening to the Major ramble on, watching, trying to discern which details would be most important, and then trying to reach in and snatch the pertinent pieces of information and gather them together into something useful!"

He didn't vocalize any of that, though his next thoughts he did. 

"I don't know how Craig manages as well as he does sometime! Yet, he keeps pulling a rabbit out of his hat, coming up with one miracle after another! Hopefully he will continue being able to do so."

Goniff had paused at the entrance, impatiently waiting for them to stop playing around and get on with the important task of getting food and something to drink before they headed off again. Finally, when they did, he grumbled to them in a half-hearted way, glancing back down the hallway to see if Garrison was catching up yet. He knew it wasn't likely, but still, he did like to know where the officer was. Could get into more trouble than you'd think, sometimes, enough the Englishman did worry about him more than you'd think likely. Garrison, the rest of the guys, but Garrison maybe more than the others.

Goniff worried about that, in the beginning, when he'd first noticed, til he decided worrying about him being worried was just plain foolish, there not being anything he could do about it in the first place, and just likely to wrap his mind in knots he'd never get untangled. Now he just accepted it as a given, something he really had no control over anyway. 

"Don't know about the lot of you, but I'd be a lot 'appier if they'd let us get all the way back from one job before they go sending us out again! Nevermind the Lieutenant and 'is rabbits and 'is ruddy miracles, w'at I'd been 'oping for was a shower and a drink and a full two-days' sleep! You think there's a chance of at least the shower, maybe some clean togs before we get going again?" he asked Actor hopefully. "Maybe something that even fits?" he grumped as he, once again, tugged those sagging trousers into place. They'd not fit overly well before that last extended mission; after that long stretch on the Continent with food being in very short supply and vigorous exercise being in far too great a supply, the fit was even worse than before. 

Actor jerked his chin in the direction of the food counter, urging them along, but then shaking his head in rueful dismissal of such a fond thought. 

"Ah, Goniff! I know Christmas is coming, but that is asking for a miracle even the season is unlikely to deliver!"

Well, the season might not, but Garrison could and did. It wasn't much, not in terms of what he'd liked to be able to deliver for his men - hot water, clean clothes, a stiff drink, and some serious sack time - but it was something anyway. At least the first two he'd managed to arrange before they headed off to the air strip, and he'd begged a flask off Reynolds, a fellow Team Leader, at HQ. It would be enough for at least one swallow for each of his guys on the trip out, a little pre-Christmas cheer, and since it was Reynolds, not Ainsley, unlikely to poison any of them. 

He had the serious intention of making it up to them when they got back from what promised to be a short milk run. Sergeant Major Rawlins already had his instructions, the packet of cash Garrison had been laying aside just for that purpose. At least there would be a couple of decent bottles waiting, a better supply of food in the kitchen, enough for one simple if pleasant meal, and Rawlins knew the guys would be occupying those cots for as long as they wanted, at least for the first two days after they got back, training be hanged!

Two days later:

Taking shelter in the cave had seemed the best option they had, considering the pursuing German patrol and the raging blizzard outside. And it truly had been, no doubt. They'd never have made it to the rendezvous point on foot in that storm and over the rough terrain. 

Of course they hadn't started out on foot; Chief had stolen a truck for them to use, but then the truck had hit a hidden rock dislodged by the previous storm, rendering the brake line and the gas line more suitable for use on a children's whirl-a-gig than for conveying fluid. It was no comfort that the German patrol was probably holed up somewhere too; that was no help if Garrison and his team couldn't find a way to get from Point A to Point B without wading into drifts over their heads.

Garrison realized this was turning out to be a total disaster. Well, it had pretty much been a disaster since they'd headed away from the city in such triumph, that milk run turning out to be just that. The exit plan was solid, they had plenty of time, and things were looking good.

Then they'd run afoul of that German patrol out on manoeuvres. They'd blasted their way clear, and started off double-speed, but that was when the storm, only a whisper of a promise the hour before, had hit full force. Now the blustery wind was peppered with snowflakes that quickly turned into a fullblown wind-driven blizzard, enough Chief was left hunched over the steering wheel trying to see through the windshield being totally obscured between one swipe of the wipers and the next. 

Then, the jolting bump, the sway, the mad veering off to the side of the road, had them all cursing the air blue as they tried to untangle themselves from their teammates.

It hadn't taken much, just Chief and Casino wriggling under that tilted vehicle and coming back out with those grim looks, to tell the others that the accident with their transport had been the final bit of bad luck, one leaving them no choice but to head out on foot and seek whatever shelter they could find. They'd grabbed the small cache of supplies from the rear of the truck - just a couple of rolled blankets, a canteen of water, a short coil of rope, nothing much else - and started toward the cliffs they could see in the distance.

It was only mid-day, enough they should have been able to see where they were going, but the swirling snow served just as well as darkness in leading them astray. Now, a couple of hours later, they were all soaked and shivering, covered with the snow from their various falls and tumbles, along with the snow delivered by some unfriendly trees that seemed to rejoice in sending their own white burden down onto those passing underneath. 

At one time, Goniff had totally disappeared as the snowy surface had simply given away underneath him, revealing the brush-filled gully that bordered the road they could no longer see. Casino had followed suit as he rushed too close to the edge in a rescue attempt, only to find that edge was only the edge of the gaping hole, not that of the gully. It had taken the other three far too long to stamp around and discern the rocky rim, then have Chief shimmy down and get each man pulled free of the encircling brush and in turn tied to the end of that rope, to be hauled unceremoniously up to relative safety. They'd all been in a state of exhaustion by the time that was accomplished, but remaining there to catch their breath wasn't an option, not with the continuing snow and that patrol probably on their heels.

The half-hidden mouth of a cave at the base of a cliff was the first viable shelter they found. 

Garrison wondered to himself if they should take that offer, beat their way inside that mute gaping hole, or bypass it, go for something farther off the beaten track. 

{"If that patrol comes this way, it'll be obvious where we are. That churned-up snow from earlier, our tracks leading straight here . . ."}. 

He looked back and grimly noticed their tracks were fading rapidly, the newly-fallen snow filling them in as if no one had come this way in hours. Within minutes, if the snow held out, there would be no evidence of their passing. In one way, of course, that was good, but it didn't promise a lot as far as making it out of here alive, not unless that storm quieted down soon.

"Inside," he managed through blue-tinged lips. "We've got to get out of this storm," and they gratefully headed for that promise of shelter, cold and rocky though it might be. They forced their way through the foot high drift at the base of the opening, but once inside, their strength gave way, and each fell to their knees, gasping for breath. First to their knees, then all the way to the surface below, curling in on themselves in a futile effort to recover from the cold and exhaustion that rode each man's back like a winter demon.

Now, some time later, Garrison lay shivering on the cold stone floor of the cave, knowing his men were in no better condition than he was. They weren't laying buried in the snow, like they would have been if they'd remained outside, but they were soaked through, both from the snow seeping through their clothes and their own sweat from their struggles. Hypothermia was a given, with nothing to save them except for a miracle. 

Unfortunately, he didn't have a miracle stashed away, not this time. There had been those two blankets stashed in the back of the truck they'd stolen but they were as wet as the men themselves, not much help under the circumstances, even if any of them had the wits or energy to get to those two rolls Casino and Goniff had lugged along on their backs, somehow had managed to hang onto even during the struggles outside.

He glanced at the entrance once more, seeing the rising snow as a protection against discovery, but also promising a new struggle once the snow stopped. Even if they survived the cold, they'd have to dig their way out, that much was apparent by the steadily-diminishing amount of light at the entrance - at first there had been snow maybe a foot deep, but with gullies formed by them forcing their way through to the space beyond. Now, there was only a narrow thread of light at the top, the bottom a solid bank of white. 

{"And who knows whether that's just a drift we can force our way through, or if it really is that deep outside. And even if we do survive, make it out and the way is passable, we're still a long way from the pickup point."}

He looked for each of his men - Goniff, Chief, Casino, Actor, each huddled in on themselves on the bare stone underneath. They'd stumbled in, blindly, and collapsed, each separated by several feet. They would have been warmer sharing body heat, if they indeed had any left, which was doubtful, but they'd each dropped in their own space, mind and body exhausted past rational thought or action by their previous struggles. 

He opened his mouth to rouse them, give them instructions, but his own exhaustion took over, and his eyes closed, his mind searching to no avail for the answer to their situation. 

{"Warm. If I could just get warm, I could think, come up with a plan. Warm,"} he thought, aching with the need for that elusive element, aching with the knowledge that he had failed his men, brought them to this cold and lonely place, probably to die there.

Actor wasn't sure what had roused him from his stupor, but something had. The cave was still frigid, but there was a mist that swirled in the dim cavity now, and within that mist was somehow, not warmth, but perhaps the elusive promise of warmth. He struggled to his feet, followed the tendrils to their source, the rugged stone wall at the rear of the space where they had sheltered. 

Standing there, he wondered where the mist was coming from; there seemed no obvious source, yet there it was, and yes, it was faintly warm, adding a bit of light to the cave as well, and was somehow welcoming, though he realized that was a very odd thought, probably brought on by his weakened condition. 

{"A hot spring, perhaps, connected to this cave by faint cracks in the structure? But that would hardly account for the light."}

The thought occurred that he could perhaps drag his companions closer to that rear wall, that even that faint warmth might be enough to save them, for he knew it was only a matter of time before hypothermia would extinguish their lives.

Then, through the tendrils of mist, a stronger, yet still soft light formed on that stone wall. A form appeared, first one, then a second. Blinking rapidly, he shook his head in annoyance. 

"I hardly need to be developing hallucinations; I cannot see that it will help matters much," he told himself in exasperation. 

Still, the forms took shape, became more solid, finally appearing so real he could no longer accept them as hallucinations.

Actor, having no strength left to stand, collapsed to his knees at the rear of the cave. The images he saw there were now so clear he stretched out his hand to gently trace the outlines in the stone. 

"Yes," he murmured, "they are real!" he said in a wondering voice of awe.

The figure on the right moved, now fully three-dimensional, no longer the two-dimensional carvings Actor had assumed he had discovered. The man, for man it truly was, drew his eyes upward, and Actor exhaled in wonder.

"Jesu, joy of man's desiring . . ." he softly intoned. Dark eyes met his own, gentle yet stern, dark oiled hair worn in loose ringlets, skin of that indeterminate olive/brown combination seen so often in the Middle East. One hand was outstretched as if in blessing, and he unconsciously leaned forward to receive what was being offered.

Shifting his eyes to the female figure on the left, smiling in eager anticipation, he blinked in shock. No, not what, who he was expecting, not at all. A warrior priestess, perhaps, she who stood there, fair skinned with her long flaming red hair barely contained in a circlet, clad in wheat-colored tunic and trousers trimmed in dark brown leather, though with her feet bare. There was no mistaking the array of weapons at her disposal, from the knives strapped to her forearms and waist (and probably elsewhere), the bow clasped in one hand, the quiver of arrows showing above her shoulder. There was warmth showing on her far-too-familiar face, though there was a modicum of wry amusement mixed in.

He squinted, glancing back to the figure on the right, then back again.

"Erdu??!" he whispered in unbelieving recognition of the One to whom the Clan O'Donnell made their obeisances.

That slight amusement on the woman's face increased til it became a mischievious grin he recognized as being one often worn by Coura, the youngest of the O'Donnell sisters. 

A masculine voice sighed, drawing his attention back. "Another interesting predicament. You and your friends do manage to find them, don't you? And it would seem your Lieutenant Garrison is in no condition to 'pull another rabbit out of his hat', as I believe the expression goes. Ah, well, it had to happen some time, I suppose."

"Perhaps it might be time for the rest of you to go looking for a rabbit or two of your own. Specifically, you, since you seem to be the most mobile at the moment," the woman said with a slightly-crisp, slightly impatient note in her husky voice. "Think on it, my boy. Here, I'll even give you a hint. You are wanting to pull a rabbit out of an empty hat. Never mind the hat, what sort of a rabbit do you need? Perhaps just a rabbit in general? THINK, child!"

Actor frowned, confused not only at the two figures in front of him, but equally confused by the woman's insistence that he think about rabbits at a time like this.

The male figure smiled down at him. "She is right, you know, if being a little more cryptic than is necessary. But she is right. Concentrate, focus. Think about a rabbit, all that soft, warm fur; warm blood pulsing through its veins, forcing that warmth outward from hot flesh through that outer skin; warmth radiating to the hands holding the rabbit in their grasp, or perhaps just another rabbit huddled close. The sharing of a soft warm breath, a soft and warm fond muttering into a waiting ear, a warm caring being shared from a loving heart, each adding its own measure to the whole. What is the common word, the common thought in there? Think! She's right; we are supposed to GUIDE you, not hand you things 'on a silver platter'. Another of those odd expressions, but it does fit, don't you think, old friend," he said, looking inquiringly at the woman.

She laughed gently, "they have so many, don't they? Some I have adopted for my own use, in fact." She turned, retreated just a little into the distance, as if the wall of the cave had suddenly developed a second chamber. 

The man turned to join her, to take a seat on the two tall stone chairs that had appeared out of nowhere. "I have done much the same, I must admit; I particularly like the one about . . . "

The woman looked back at Actor, now with evident impatience. 

"Well? Are you still standing there? Do you want to freeze to death, you and your friends? You have to do YOUR part before we will do anything else. We have given you all you need! I seem to remember something about 'helping those who help themselves'? That's one of yours, isn't it?" she said with a fond glance at her companion, and turned back to what seemed an engrossing conversation.

Actor gave himself a good shake all over. Obviously those two were going to continue their discussion, leaving him to come up with a solution. He gave a slightly-disgruntled look at the pair who had seemingly dismissed him and his quandary from their minds, leaving him to figure out those vague hints. {"But were they so vague, or is my mind simply too dulled by the cold? Think, Actor, think! Perhaps if I say it all aloud . . ."}

"Rabbits, warm fur, warm blood pulsing outward, warmth of thoughts and breath and heart. The sharing of that warmth with . . ." and he wanted to slap himself upside the head for not having realized immediately. "Yes, that would help; it might not be enough, but it would help," he said triumphantly, glancing back at the duo now giving him a smile and an approving nod. 

The warm mist was being released into the frigid cave faster now, giving him strength to move closer to his friends, huddled in their cold solitude. He drew close to Garrison, bent down to touch that hunched shoulder, intending to urge him up and over close to Chief, the other man laying only a few feet away, the closest of the three. It was logical, it made sense not moving anyone any farther than necessary, yet he hesitated. 

A soft exhalation from Garrison, a word uttered under his breath - no, not a word, a name - uttered in a softly yearning voice, and Actor stopped, glanced back at the two watching, wondering if he'd actually heard what he'd thought he had. Somehow he knew what they would say if he asked, but also knew he was not to ask, he was to decide and DO, and he knew those two expected him to get this right. He nodded in understanding, at least in understanding of what he must do, if not exactly why. But still, "yes, that is best, and not just for Craig."

It took time to urge Goniff into semi-wakefulness; then, a quiet exhortation. "Craig needs you, Goniff. You need to go to him, keep him warm."

Goniff licked at his blue lips, struggling to open his frost-rimmed lashes. "Better be you, Actor," he managed reluctantly around his chattering teeth. "I'm so cold, inside and out, don't 'ave much to offer. Don't think I'll do 'im any good. Sides, you're bigger 'n me; likely to do 'im more good than I ever could do," though giving a look of deep concern, of intense longing and regret toward the still figure huddled against the wall.

Actor smiled and shook his head, certain now of the way forward. 

"You would be amazed at how much good you will do, Goniff, how much warmth you have to share. Unless you wish for him to remain cold, without any warmth to comfort him," knowing that would bring their Englishman staggering to his feet, if in a painful, wavering fashion. No, Goniff would never wish that, not for any of them, but more than anything, not for Craig. 

The time would come when Actor would wonder at his actions, his words, wondering if they had truly come from him, or perhaps only through him, but now was not the time for such thought, now was the time for action, however incomprehensible it might be.

"Don't forget to tuck them in," came a warm chuckle from the woman watching from the rear of the cave. Actor knew full well the state of those two blankets, but decided protesting would get him nowhere, and besides, considering everything else that had happened, who could tell? Leaning down to unroll those strapped wool blankets, he shook his head in wonder at the dry softness, the warmth and scent of summer herbs issuing forth.

Soon the tall Italian nodded in satisfaction, looking down at Goniff's encircling arms holding their young lieutenant so closely to him, Goniff's chin resting on Garrison's shoulder, letting his faint mutterings drift softly to Garrison's waiting ear, faint smile now on each of their sleeping faces. It almost seemed to Actor that he could see a slight note of color in their cheeks now, as if the shared warmth was having a far faster effect than should have been possible. Tucking in a stray flap of that one blanket, he stepped back, satisfied he'd done as much for them as could be done.

He glanced back at the duo watching from the anteroom, not overly surprised to see the approving nod he was getting from both of those watching him.

Turning now to his other two team mates, he paused, thinking of who to approach first, finally deciding Chief would be the best, the most likely, certainly the more easy one to move. Still, only a foot away, he hesitated, then turned resolutely back to Casino; he wasn't sure why, but just knew it needed to be this way. 

This wasn't as easy, Casino resisting, seeming to think he'd be unwelcome, but Actor found the right words, and soon enough he was able to step back, the two settled in together. He saw Chief's taut muscles relax into the warmth being offered to him, Casino following suit with a reluctant smile of deep affection on his ruggedly-handsome face. The second blanket was dropped into place, carefully tucked around the two huddled so close together, and he smiled at the joint sighs of pleasure.

"And what of me?" Actor murmured softly, not begrudging them, but shivering, aching with a need of his own. His four companions were now encircled with their own warmth, physical warmth and so much more, it would seem, from the looks of soul-deep contentment on each of their faces. Now he felt bereft, loneliness and cold mixing to become one visible thing surrounding him in his aloneness.

Then from the rear of the came that gentle voice, urging him back to them.

"Now you will come and sit with us, child. Sit with us, for - what was that line from Lewis Caroll? Ah yes. 'The time has come to talk of many things; of shoes and ships and sealing wax. Of cabbages and kings'," the man offered, the smile on his face issuing a warmth that made Actor ache with wanting to share what was being offered - something far different than what his companions were sharing, but still, something with its own warmth, something that drew him forward. 

Still, whether that offer was also extended by the man's companion, that was the question, and he dared not presume to know the answer. He'd seen first-hand what awaited those who presumed too much with the O'Donnell women; he hardly thought their Sweet Mother would be any more lenient.

The woman held out her hand, her wry knowing smile no less welcoming. "He is right. You will come and sit with us - we will share our thoughts, the three of us, share our stories and songs and concerns and hopes and desires. The warmth they share will keep your companions well content; perhaps what we share will bring some degree of contentment to you as well."

And so it was, him spending the intervening hours sitting at their feet, warmth of a summer's day surrounding him, knowledge and understanding seeping into his mind, his soul, and he was content, in his own way. 

This would fade rapidly, what he heard, what he shared, even before they left this place, even any clear motivation for his actions. But enough would remain, enough that he would always know he had been part of what could only be called a miracle. That would stay with him.

And when the blizzard had ended, but not before the enemy patrol had dug itself out and moved far away, the two seated figures smiled with deep satisfaction, and nodded, and told him it was time for them to return to their tasks, just as he and his companions must return to theirs.

Actor rose from his comfortable seat at the rear of the cave and turned back to his four friends. They were just rousing, he could see, and their faces bore a drowsy smile as if arising from a warm familiar bed in a place of comfort and safety. If there was any embarrassment at finding themselves having shared warmth during the night, he saw little sign of it, only a lingering contentment in their eyes. 

He hid a smile, wondering how much of this THEY would remember, wondered how much he would feel free telling them of what had happened in this cave, shut off from the world outside.

The snow had melted away from the entrance - not entirely, no, but enough that it took no more than a touch before the rest crumbled away, leaving their way clear. An abandoned jeep holding a partial tank of gas awaited them around the next curve in the road, and they were off.

Later, at the exit, watching the plane approach, Garrison shook his head in wonder. 

"To have that cave there, just when we needed it, that was more luck than I'd hoped for. To have it located over that underground hot spring, so it was that warm inside - that was a miracle! The jeep - well, if miracles can have an epilogue, I'd say that met the test!"

The others agreed willingly, remembering that welcoming shelter, the warmth that had awaited them there, a warmth that lent them such comfort - a warmth they could still feel inside. The jeep allowing them to make the exit on time was well above and beyond what anyone could have dreamed.

As for Actor, there was an odd inscrutable smile on his face, though all he said in reply was a calm, "a miracle indeed, Craig! Truly a miracle. Well, it IS Christmas, after all. If a miracle is to occur, what better time?"


End file.
